


Rockabye

by Blue_Cat



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen, M/M, The Rogues (DCU) As Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 13:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7052884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Cat/pseuds/Blue_Cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snart and a baby</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rockabye

Everything is going smoothly. Hartley managed to disable the alarm system before anyone at the bank even knew the Rogues were there. They snuck in through a side entrance and the two guards on duty were swiftly knocked out and restrained. It’s not overly crowded and their little group of bank-members-turned-hostages has been sufficiently cowed. If Flash were going to show he would have by now, Lisa’s got the car ready to go right outside, Mick’s in a good mood (after setting about a dozen car fires last night), and even Axel is ~~suspiciously~~ surprisingly tame. Everything is going smoothly. Which, of course, is the first sign that something’s about to go wrong.

Len’s just coming back from checking in on Hartley (“I thought you knew how to crack this” _“I do”_ “Only you said it would take you a minute and it’s been *checks watch* a minute-forty and I see nothing cracked” “ _Yes_ , I can also tell time, thanks. The system’s been upgraded from the one I’ve been practicing on, that’s all” “No need to snarl Piper. But you’ve got another two minutes before I bring Mick in and we melt this door down.”) – He likes the kid, Hartley may be a smartass, but he’s an _intelligent_ smartass– but he’s just coming back from checking in on Hartley and thinking about how many of the security deposit boxes they would risk melting if it becomes necessary to use the heat gun and how valuable their contents might be when he hears it. It’s not a full-blown wail, but it’s certainly more than a whimper and it’s definitely not part of the plan. He turns on his heel and heads towards the lobby instead; Hartley’s got an extra forty-five seconds with this distraction.

He enters the lobby to a tense situation indeed. The hostages (although Leonard plans to be long gone before any kind of actual hostage situation becomes necessary) are huddled together on the floor, where he left them, their cellphones and personal items (purses, watches, keys, a stroller, and one hot pink electric wheelchair) along with the guards’ weapons are piled together at the other end of the room, where he left them, and Mardon is looming threateningly over a lovely young couple, not where he left him.

Shawna is nearby looking like she wants to intervene but is also ready to poof away should the situation turn against her favor.

“Shut it up”, he hears Mardon say when he gets close enough.

“We’re t-trying”, comes the squeaky reply from someone Leonard can’t see. The tiny voice is difficult to make out over the crying that echoes in the empty room.  
Shawna is darting concerned looks between the confrontation and the large tinted windows showcasing a lovely spring day on the streets of Central City. Probably because she doesn’t know the thick glass is relatively sound proof. He sincerely doubts the passersby will take notice of the noise, but he likes her caution.

The baby’s cries only get louder at his/her parents’ stuttering attempts to calm it. The air around Mardon starts to crackle dangerously. To no one’s surprise, well not to Leonard’s surprise anyway, he doesn’t know if anyone else is keeping score, sudden loud noises do nothing to comfort crying children and the wails increase what feels like an entire decibel and a half.

_“Shut it up now”_ , Mardon growls as actual sparks start flying off of him and the wind picks up.

Leonard doesn’t yet know what the deal is with Mardon and children, but it’s a liability that’s going to have to be addressed. Apparently sooner, rather than later. He can only have so many unstable, drop-of-a-hat berserkers on his crew at one time. And he actually likes this crew; he’d rather not have to discard any of them if he doesn’t have to.

“Or what, Mardon?” he hears Shawna ask incredulously, “You’re gonna electrocute a toddler?”

When Mardon doesn’t immediately refute, Leonard decides it’s time step in. He’ll hold a young family hostage, sure, but he’s not going to hold a young family hostage and then make them guess whether or not he’s also going to execute their baby in front of them. There’s necessary evil and then there’s needless torture.

He makes sure his boots audibly click as he steps across the tiled floor. These two should have already realized he was in the room so they really don’t deserve a pass, but the last thing he wants right now is to startle Mardon and end up with a lightning bolt in the chest for his trouble. So he comes to a halt beside the Weather Wizard and pretends not to feel the static crackling in the air.

“What’s the problem, Mardon?” he drawls, trying to make it absolutely clear through tone alone that he is not asking Mardon what the problem is so much as he is asking Mardon what he, Mardon, did to cause this problem that he, Leonard, now must deal with.

“Parents can’t keep their fucking kid quiet”, Mardon protests, affronted. So it would appear his tone was effective. Len pauses to consider this and then looks down to assess the situation for himself.

A pale-faced young man, who is patently not returning eye contact, is hunched in front of a pretty young woman, who is staring up at him wide-eyed with tear tracks down her cheeks and trembling. The young lady is clutching a small child who takes one look at the big scary man in the large coat and goggles and renews her screeching with exponential intensity. Little girl’s face is turning pink.

The ‘Fucking Kid’ can’t be more than two years old and Leonard sincerely doubts she knows she’s inconveniencing the Rogues, much less is aware enough of her situation to do it intentionally. As for the parents (he assumes they’re the parents), they’re barely keeping themselves together by the looks of it. Likely their first time at a heist. The father’s occupied with trying to block the little one from their view, as if that will help, and the mother’s panicked attempts to soothe the child are having entirely the opposite effect. Secure your own mask before helping others with theirs, and all that. He sighs and slowly crouches down to their level. The mother’s eyes follow him down, like a deer in headlights. He holds her focus and then points to the baby, “Give me that.”

She starts to shake her head, clutching the baby tighter, fresh tears spilling silently down her cheeks, which really does nothing to help the situation.

“Give it to me”, he tells her again, but she shakes her head harder and now the other civilians are getting fidgety so he takes out the cold gun and lets it whirr to life in his hands, pointing it at the peanut gallery and keeping his eyes on Mom.

“Shawna”, he barks.

Peek-a-boo takes a few tentative steps towards him, “C’mon Cold, she’s just a baby”

He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t have to ask her twice. She’s a good girl, but at the end of the day Shawna’s a self-preservationist above all else.

Although, honestly, first Mardon invites him to go on a child-murdering spree for Christmas and now Boo thinks he’s gonna just ice some kid for doing what kids generally do in this situation. What has he done in his life that people are so convinced he gets his kicks killing babies?

With Mardon still crackling beside him and his cold gun purring steadily, no one makes a move as Shawna approaches the sobbing mother. He hears her whisper an apology to the woman as she pries the wailing child out of her arms. The young woman whimpers weakly, clinging to her husband as she watches Shawna carry her baby away. Leonard stands, returning the cold gun to its holster, and walks over to where Shawna is holding the shrieking kid like it’s about to go nuclear. He slips his gloves off, stuffing them and the goggles into his coat pockets before shedding the parka too and laying it on the teller counter. He swipes a fluffy pink blanket from the baby’s abandoned stroller and gestures for Shawna to hand him the baby. Which she does immediately. Peek-a-boo doesn’t like kids; noted.

He swaddles the baby’s flailing limbs best he can, wrapping her securely and holding her close as he starts swaying and bouncing her. When her howling becomes more of a dull roar as she’s distracted by the movement, he starts whispering shushing noises in her ear. When she starts to whimper and pout instead he adjusts her into a cradle hold and sticks a finger in her mouth to suck on. It’s not the most hygienic but he’s improvising because for some reason _unfathomable_ to him, the stroller has nothing in the way of pacifiers or teething rings. He checked.

Leonard turns back to the room to see a literal crowd of people gaping at him. He thinks they would have been less shocked if he really _had_ shot the kid.

He gives Shawna a pointed look, “Go get Mick, tell him Piper’s taking too long.” He thinks he hears her jaw audibly shut right before she warps away.

He gives the rest of the room a challenging look, but no one dares to comment. Good to know his intimidation factor remains intact, even whilst gently rocking a baby as it drowsily gums at his finger. It almost makes him regret cutting out the security cameras – he would have liked a copy of this moment for posterity. Mardon’s face, in particular, is especially amusing.

“Uh oh”, Leonard and his onlookers turn as one to see Golden Glider saunter into the lobby with her usual confidence, “Better watch out Mick, looks like someone’s caught a nasty case of baby fever.”

“Hardly”, he scoffs, “What are you doing here?”

“Sent Shawna out to the truck”, Mick answers, tailing Lisa, “S’dead empty outside anyway, we’re clear.”

“Are we kidnapping a baby?” Axel asks eagerly, finishing off the trio. A little too eagerly. Still a bit too much of his father in that one for Len’s taste, but he’s still confident he can wean that out in time. Against all better judgment, he doesn’t mind Axel.

“If Snart wanted to spend more time with someone who routinely bursts into inconsolable tears and also needs a diaper change once an hour; he’d hang out with _you_ more often, Walker.” Hartley snarks as he joins the commotion.

“I resent that”, Axel pipes up, “I’ll have you know I usually only do one of those things.”

“Bet I can guess which”, Mardon offers.

“I _know_ which”, that’s Lisa.

“You promised never to speak of that!”

“Yeah, I know”, Lisa pouts with mock concern, “but I do this thing sometimes; it’s called ‘lying’.”

“Is this about the time when-“

“Don’t we have a bank to be robbing?” Len cuts in. Because there was, originally, a plan here. And then there was a commotion and then there was a baby and now there’s some sort of gossip circle going on and he wasn’t designed to deal with derailments like this. He really does like this crew and it’s gonna suck if it turns out that they can’t even pull a simple heist without diverting wildly off course.

Of course, his protest makes the baby fuss and he resumes his gentle swaying and _really how exactly did this become his life?_ Where’s his play-by-play?

“I opened the door and all of the safety deposit boxes; they were connected to the same system after the security upgrade, boss”, Hartley informs him, tone caught somewhere between class-nerd-seeks-teacher’s-approval and genius-student-talks-down-to-teacher-along-with-classmates.

Mick raises his eyebrows from where he’s been letting the baby grab at his fingers and then sends the rest of the Rogues off with a toss of his head.

Lisa marches the boys off without further ado, although he does hear her stage-whisper “’Boss’ is what Mick calls Lenny in bed” followed by a chorus of groans.

What comes next is one of the most glorious parades of bulging duffel bags Leonard has seen in a while. It’s not like he doesn’t enjoy the single-item takes; The Kahndaq Dynasty Diamond or the Fire & Ice painting. But there’s something about a bulging duffel bag of diamonds and gold and cash that would excite any self-respecting criminal.

And Boo pops back in and scares the life out of Mardon, who actually startles enough to huff out a laugh and Hartley’s grinning as he picks on Axel, who’s playing up his status as the youngest Rogue to a tee, and Lisa’s smile is glowing and Mick’s cooing at a freaking baby. He likes this crew.


End file.
